


Soul (Bonded)

by Nadler



Category: James Bond (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-07-27 15:51:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7624660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nadler/pseuds/Nadler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alec is James's soulmate; it doesn't change much (except for the part it does).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soul (Bonded)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thedevilchicken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedevilchicken/gifts).



James knows the moment he meets him. It goes beyond the fission of attraction, though he has to stop himself from taking a second glance over 006’s shoulders or lingering on the set of his jaw. His expression is careful, neutral.

Only the best for this job.

M introduces them. A succinct, _006, James Bond. 007, Alec Trevelyan._

James shakes 006’s hand firmly. His throat’s a little dry. “Pleasure to meet you,” he says.

“Likewise.” The edges around his mouth crinkle—the smile is genuine.

 

James doesn’t put much stock in soulmates.

That, of course, doesn’t help him when he starts dreaming about his when he’s a boy. When he wakes, his memory is fuzzy, but he knows he’s been somewhere else. It’s hard to tell where his thoughts end and his soulmate’s begins. It takes a little effort, but he can barely make out what little he remembers being said—it’s not English, for sure.

It’s only when he starts his training that he knows that it’s Russian.

 

There is nothing like the rush of adrenaline after jumping out of a plane. Leaving the Yakuza angry and speechless is only a bonus.

James merely thinks, _Today is a good day._

Alec smiles at him. “To victory,” he toasts.

“To victory.”

 

At some point between being shot at in Afghanistan and being shot at in Austria, James lands a plane on the water. Of course, neither he nor Alec are in the plane at the time; they’re on jet-skis behind a boat. It isn’t the best place for a conversation.

Truthfully, neither is the plane over the mountains.

The problem with soulmates is their permanence. He depends on being what the situation needs him to be, a bit part in the mission or the star. In another life, maybe James would have enjoyed having a soulmate, but he chose to serve his country instead. He can’t be tied down.

Those are the things he would be saying if his soulmate was an unknown, but his fellow double-ohs are the same way.

“We’re the same, you and I,” Alec simply says, and this time, the glimmer in his eye tells James all he needs to know.

“I know.” Two sides of the same coin. If he’d admit it, James doesn’t know what he is without Alec. It should frighten him.

It doesn’t.

 

The first time they fall into bed together is electric, high on adrenaline and the fumes of success.

James is not a stranger to sex; men, women, on islands and beaches and on cold winter nights. He’s not shy about it. Neither is Alec—who leaves bruises on his hips, a scattering of bites down his chest, pressure against scars he’s gained.

He’s used to being the one leaving, not waking up to an empty bed. James can’t say it’s the best he’s ever had, but it feels _more_. Of what, he doesn’t know.

It’s certainly more memorable.

 

Before, James wonders what his soulmate sees through his dreams. James is not quite sure how this works, but he pushes, once, and projects, Hello. He never got an answer.

He pushes it away after he makes double-oh. James cannot afford to indulge like this; women and booze and guns are idle distractions, and they’re fleeting. He can have those. They never last, and it suits him to chase after one or another.

James never asks Alec what he sees at night. James can’t imagine that any of it shocks him at all. They share everything.

It isn’t an exaggeration; they don’t meet up in the false veneer of their civilian lives, but James knows the particularities of the various locks around Alec’s hideouts. He comes back, sometimes, to missing bottles of liquor and new ties in his closet.

It works.

Alec’s seen him shoot murderers and thieves and minions. He’s seen him raw and beaten after a particularly bad fight. He’s seen him gripe about paperwork. Piss off Q. Piss off M and Moneypenny, sometimes in the same breath.

Alec’s also seen what James is like in the dark. Not only in bed—sometimes with a third, sometimes just themselves—but in the deepest moments of clarity.

 

While James never asks, Alec does.

“What is this _for_ , James?” Alec winces. They’ve a couple hours until the rendezvous, but there’s little left to do except lick their wounds.

“Stitches, or did you forget you have a gash? Hold still.” James knows his stitch work isn’t the neatest, but he doesn’t think Alec can keep a steady hand.

“No,” he sighs. James cuts the thread with his teeth. “This. The last three mission have been for nothing.”

“For England, Alec.”

“Yes,” he nods. “For England. But is that enough?”

It’s hard to say anything. James never doubts as much when he’s away from Alec, on his own solo missions and doing his own tedious paperwork. He signed up for this, to serve the Crown, to do what needs to be done, to be a weapon.

Once, it seemed like an honor. But.

Alec offers his hand, James takes it.

 

James sets the timer to six minutes. The explosion goes as planned.

 

In the aftermath, Alec is as close to giggling as he ever is sober. He leans over and kisses James languidly. Sheets pool around his waist. “I have so much planned.”

They’re still on the high of a clean get-away, and James says, “I expected nothing less. Being dead’s handy.”

“They’ll put up stars in our names, I’m sure.” Alec stretches. “And we’ll need new ones.”

“Details,” James waves off. “When’s the last time you had a vacation?”


End file.
